You and whose army? (Rogue)
by Fading to oblivion
Summary: A story of an outspoken ARC Trooper facing retirement after The Clone Wars and Order 66. Main characters are two original characters, although it features canon characters too. An adventure story of a Clone who is fiercely loyal and rebellious no longer needed in an army, and a Jedi on the run with a bounty on her head.
1. Decisions

**A . R . C.**

**a . d . v . e . n . t . u . r . e . s **

**L**ieutenant Cub shuffled from foot to foot, his eyes echoing the agitated movements. The typical Lieutenant's helmet tucked neatly under his arm allowed for a certain amount of cover - he'd let his hair grow out, and now it cascaded in curls across his forehead, his own method of rebellion. His other brothers were staring ahead stockily; it would have been obvious that he was the only one to break formation in the line if not for his hair.

If the Clone had been aware of his jumpy movements, he would have certainly been thankful that it was not a Jedi stood in-front of him. Instead, a stern faced ordinary _human _was pacing before them. He almost laughed with incredulity; aware of his prowess with battle tactics, the elite of the army, it seemed silly that they would be under the command of one that was so _beneath _them. Prejudice was never a part of either his programming or his personality - but these were hardly _normal _circumstances.

_"Well, you've achieved your life's work. As was always intended, you have two options; retirement or to pass on your elite battle training to your new successors, the Stormtroopers."_

Movements ceased with one heartbeat, suddenly seeming out of place in this small room. After all that they had been asked to do, it seemed too good to be true that they could retire; he understood that his purpose had always been to fight with the Republic ... _The Empire _... but surely it was a foolish move. ARC Troopers were outspoken and rebellious, a fact which seemed to have been forgotten in the confusion and rush of his _final _order.

_"ARC Commanders; ARC Captains, ARC Lieutenants and ARC Sergeants - some of you will choose to end your duty here, others will continue. Which shall it be?"_ Too soft; he was used to barking orders in the rush and anticipation of battle, not _this. _

Cub wished that he could look to his side in that moment, to raise his eyebrows and silently ask what they thought of the proposition. Some had been personally trained by _the _Jango Fett, others had worked themselves up to this title - all had undergone training that set them apart from the average Clone ... training that made them _very _dangerous to have roaming free, even under watchful eyes. As a tight knit collection of elite squads, Cub felt certain that many would be undergoing internal conflict, just like him. Still - he was unknowing of how many had followed their orders - some may have still felt an allegiance to the cause that saw the Jedi fall.

As if on cue, the Lieutenant felt a movement brush his arm. Sure enough, the solider to his left had stepped forward. _"It is my duty to serve, Sir."_

_"Very good, Captain. We'll expect the best from you."_

Tension could have split the air like a knife; it hadn't dawned on the battle weary that they would have to make a decision in that moment. It was all very well on the battlefield, where quick thinking was needed. Up until this point, tactics had never been needed outside of training facilities, ground where grass had no stains, just scrap metal from clankers; 'born' into a life without changes, routine after routine and shot after shot, decisions would have to be made for the _future _now. The future was something even the most forward thinking of Clones had never really considered, and Cub had a feeling that this was being taken advantage of.

Was retirement an illusion? Being watched by The Empire hardly seemed a comfortable life, if they were even offering a true solution. He could feel his heart beating heavily, a dizziness in his head. He was capable of it, he knew that much - he'd already outsmarted the orders from above once before, although he was sure that in the years to come they'd be turfing out the betrayers. _Capable, capable, capable - _he'd made it this far, hadn't he? Brave, commanding, noble and _loyal__, _that was him ... but he picked his loyalties carefully.

Ignoring the questions that were clouding his thinking, the ARC Lieutenant snapped into action, nodding his head and moving his feet slowly in succession of each other, heavy boots now planted ahead of the others. _"I wish to retire. Somewhere I haven't fought."_

_"That is acceptable, ARC Trooper C-"_ Just as the Commander was interrupted, Cub's own head snapped backwards in surprise. He would have never expected that some of his brothers would be on the opposite side of the spectrum to him; rebellious and forthright about the Jedi, rather than ... _this. _Now they had their chance, it seemed.

Cub knew that action against his brothers was an act that would mean strict punishment - possibly even correction therapy back at the _Kamino _labs. He enjoyed the valor of fighting just as much as the next Clone, but he was not shortsighted. It had, however, taken some time for him to process what was going on; he would have assumed that the over lookers would have intervened, and yet _again _he had forgotten that they were not the Jedi, and likely not capable of holding the best warriors back from tackling down another.

The sound of heavy metal crashing to the ground separated from the grunts of Clones splitting their formation lines, each curious to hear the arguments - and beatings - going to be put forward. The ARC Trooper Lieutenant's helmet had hit the ground as he raised his arms to block the others fists, managing to heft out a labored sentence. _"I-I served in The Clone Wars_,"

_"And you should not forsake that duty now! I don't know about the rest of my brothers, but these Jedi and any Rebels will make a nice difference from those Clankers!" _Hissed back his attacker, ducking under Cub's defenses to take him down with a loud 'humph' from both men.

Eyebrows furrowed with slight annoyance and hands over his face to deflect the blows, he suddenly lifted his knees upwards in retaliation. This effort proved to be enough to afford him some breathing room, and a chance to roll to the side and hastily get to his feet, by which point several Captains, Sergeants and others alike had grabbed the arms of the fuming solider, holding him back.

_"You should know that you won't be fighting; you'll be training others to fight for you. What did you think you'd be doing?" _There was an air of superiority about his voice, but it wasn't intended; he just couldn't help pointing out that _none _of these brothers would be hunting down either Jedi nor Rebels.

_"And how could you, of all people, Cub, turn your back on this? You're a legend," _The other paused, obviously finding it hard to articulate his passion without the brute force of fighting. _"it'll harm the reputation of The Empire." _

After several seconds (that seemed like several minutes) of Cub simply staring, he screwed up his nose in disgust and spat at the Lieutenants feet.

_"They'll be people looking for you. We all did it, Order 66 - and some aren't happy. I'll be rooting them out while you'll be running from them." _


	2. Foolish

**T . E . A . M **

**t . r . e . p . i . d . a . t . i . o . n . s**

**A**lthough Lieutenant Cub would describe himself as brave, it didn't necessarily follow through to his actions. _Foolish _would be more or less the right word, despite the fact that he had enough self awareness to know what was right, what was wrong, and what would bare bad consequences for wrong - or right - decisions. In the midst of battle, however, Cub was thinking of none of those things; it was confusion. Capable of shooting the droids in all the right places and rolling grenades at just the right speed, he got the job done quickly and well without looking back. He'd been briefed for the entire of his 'life' and that he was bread and born, so to speak, to kill the damn things.

As he dived to the side and rolled to avoid blaster fire, in the corner of his eye he saw the familiar shine of yellow armour shooting at something - or someone - that was redirecting the blasts back at him. Quickly aiming upwards and shooting at the very 'heart' of the droid that was still in the process of attacking him, Cub broke into a short smile, savouring the feeling of ploughing into the enemies lines. Still, he couldn't quite understand what was going on with his Commander: the battle had been rather strange from the beginning, or so he thought.

Everything had been going as normal at first: they'd stuck in close formation, sent apart from the other Clone Troopers to sneak around to the enemies sidelines, cutting off any chances of their retreat from other angles. They'd worked well as a team, each assigned their role and all familiar with the dense and rocky environment shrouded by stunted trees - but there was something that was 'off'. Succeeding in their mission as always, they'd made good progress with cutting off the droids, the noise and cluster of the battlefield exactly what most of them had been craving after a long journey and questionable flying - as always - from the Jedi in charge of their ship. Then they'd drifted apart, commands not as universal and sharp as usual.

_"Quick! Rollie to the left Arrow, take it out!" _

Cub fumbled for a second to draw out a grenade, and rolled in his hand for a second before releasing it. Getting it just right was well earned skill; he had thrown it with conviction and with just the right amount of swing it landed directly under the shield. The deadly unit took down a trooper, who yelled in pain - but the thing wasn't aware what was coming to it. Gritting his teeth, the Lieutenant raised his hand and gestured to the a Clone Trooper near to him to go around to the back of the droideka, ready to shoot it from behind several times to ensure a full take out, just encase it rolled away at the last minute before it was blown up.

_"I'm on it," _yelled the Clone, adding a _"Lieutenant"_ in afterthought. Trusty blaster in hand and pointed directly outwards, he shot down any clankers that dared get in his way, releasing his blaster fire in short bursts to maintain accuracy. Soon he was facing the droideka from the back, and gave Cub a nod to symbolise his compliance.

Sure enough the shield went down as planned, Arrow simultaneously shooting it, glad to see the thing go down. Droideka's - or Rollies, as they liked to call them - where known for being a problem to even Jedi in the worst situations, and you needed a quick thinker and experienced soldiers to take them out. This own had gone up in flames, only simmering pieces of metal remaining, which Cub kicked to the side with disdain.

Yet, even within the heat of the battle, he couldn't focus on anything other than what was happening across the battlefield with his Commander. It seemed unreasonable that the Separatist army would have a new weapon to their advantage; everyone was saying it was near the end of the war, and yet surely the Jedi would have sensed something beforehand, and they would have been briefed. It didn't seem like it was something big either: he couldn't see it at all through the thick lines of colourful clone war and dull, grey metal. Why, the only thing that Cub could possibly think of that acted in the same way and could deflect blaster straights back at the person was a _Jedi - _and he'd only ever seen that happen with droids.

Ushering a forward motion with his hand, the Clones around him began to move forward again on his orders. _"Move out, keep it going forwards. I'm joining with the Commander; follow my orders and we're going to get through this as the sure winners!" _

He separated from the group, taking a slightly longer way around until he was distanced and safe from any stray blaster fire. All it took was a twiddle to the dials on the side of his helmet and his vision seemed to zoom inwards, focusing on his squadrons respected leader. After a long pause, Cub's mouth simply dropped open, eyes squinting to make sure his eyesight had not betrayed him. It was his signature look of complete and utter surprise; if one could see through the classic, blue striped helmet, they would see the expression of someone would was aghast and oddly _betrayed. _

_"Fierfek..." _Muttering the adopted curse word of his brothers, his knees slowly gave way from a crouching position, slumping onto the ground into a defeated stance.

The young ARC Trooper had never been much of a conversationalist around the Jedi, but he was fiercely loyal and respected the prowess that they had, as well as the cause for fighting this war in the first place. He felt that his lack of personal attachments benefited him to become a better solider and follower the orders better; ARC's were questioning, everyone knew that - but Cub had to restrain himself from asking seemingly random things constantly, and especially from stating his disagreements out loud. One would think that this was not an issue with Jedi, who after all were bound by code to not form attachments - but he knew many troopers who had more than occupational relationships with their Jedi Commanders.

However, Cub did not abstain from feeling emotion: as he saw his _own _leader fire blast upon blast, he felt a swelling confusion and rage pit in his stomach. Stories were always spreading about Clones that had never made it out of training ... Clones with _defects _ - but the ARC Troopers had been _perfect, _and all those who achieved the rank were not granted it without reason. He felt sure in that moment that, shaking as much as he was, he would have dropped his blaster and broke down - but then, that was the advantage of Clones.

Pursing his lips and setting his helmet back to normal vision, the Clone breathed a heavy sigh and lifted himself up onto his weary limbs, fearing a punishment if he left the battle area for two long. His mind was whirring with possibilities; the squad's Commander was a tactical genius, but he doubted that even he would have arranged to turn against the Jedi without alerting everyone else. It was a huge risk - immeasurable - and too risky, as the droids and many other clones would eventually wear the Jedi down to surrender.

Run, _run, _run. Pulsing through his mind, Cub could think of nothing but conspiracies - he was taught not to panic in battle, but this was a confusion. And so he picked him his blaster and wrapped his fingers tightly around it and ran. His legs carried him fast across the rocky terrain, occasionally jumping over an battle droid that had toppled over, lifeless - until he was back into the frey of the fight, taking everything in his sight down. A blindness had come over the Lieutenant, and it was the first time that he'd ever experienced something akin to this in the job. He made some mistakes - dropped his own blaster once or twice, having to resort to a smaller handgun and his feet to kick the damn metal things.

Then he was there, quick as that. The Jedi in question was a togruta; tall and agile like most Jedi, of a dusty red skin tone and long lekku, indicating experience, age, and the rank of at least Jedi Knight, if not Jedi Master. She had spherical patterns on her face, and you could see them at the top of her shoulders - indicating the markings would go all the way down to her back. Cub would have blushed if it wasn't for the repeated fire that was somehow _missing _her, and the shouts and orders from his Commander that this was a command from _The Emperor _and it needed to be carried out, leave the clankers and their dimwitted tactics.

_"Commander!" _Cob cried out, feeling rather silly standing there, as an ARC Trooper - they were legendary, the elite, after all, it was humiliating - and not participating in this massacre. _"Was this an order? Is it an act?" _

The Commander was obviously not best pleased with the interruption - even with dozens of Clones to help him, it was hard work keeping up with the Jedi and managing to dodge the fire that she was redirecting from her lightsaber. There were too many of them for her to take down - but it was the best that she could do to push some of them out of the way before more fire started to rain down again. He didn't even bare a glance to Cub in reply, speaking in a voice that betrayed his agitation.

_"Don't just stand there, Lieutenant. A new order was put through just now,"_ Taking a break to duck a rogue laser, he took the opportunity to grab for another blaster, before continuing. Cub was intrigued; this was the first time that he hadn't been briefed on Orders, and it didn't seem exactly right that they had been ordered to kill a Jedi ... by, presumably, a _Jedi_? _"and this one's putting up quite a fight." _He finished.

_"Order 66, it is. The Emperor himself put it through: if you tune into your command center, you should be able to find it there. You can even look for verification, if your Commander's word isn't enough." _

Cub felt even more distanced: it felt bad to not trust his own brothers in that matter, but his _heart _and intuition was telling him that something wasn't quite right. He didn't need to the Force to understand that this hardly seemed like standard protocol; for one, who was the Emperor? And yet - there it was, in his command center, just as the commander said. Verified as an official order - and - _lethal force? _No ...

_❝ In the event of Jedi officers acting against the interests of the Republic, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander of the Republican Army (Chancellor Palpatine), the army commanders will remove those officers by lethal force, and command of the army will revert to the Supreme Commander until a new command structure is established. ❞  
_

Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments, Cub left out a feral growl of displeasure. He couldn't stand by while a Jedi was being murdered; he was brutally loyal to those that had showed him his own strengths, and yet allowed for him to have his privacy. It was hard to explain the extent and intensity of his feelings towards this matter, but a life of fighting alongside the damned Force users had rubbed off on him.

_"Stand down, Commander." _His voice didn't tremble, but it was firm - even the Jedi spared a second (a second that could have risked her life) to glance at him. It wasn't often that Cub was authoritative: but when he was, the affect was instantaneous. _"Stand. Down." _

_"This is an order, Lieutenant! We are brothers - the Jedi don't care about us, but I care for you-" _Silenced by a single, sharp shot from a blaster - and then a stab from a lightsaber, the Commander stood down.

It was never what he imagined doing, never how he imagined his part in the war ending. There were so many Clones around him, each of them feeling a shock - none of them had felt malice in relation to killing the Jedi, but now they felt shock that one of their _own _was going to turn against them. And so it began .. Cub fought through the ranks of those who where aware of the _Order 66, _unknowingly with a Jedi at his side. They ravaged the battlefield together, one too disgusted with himself to pay attention to the brutal killing, the other retaining and pushing the emotions deeper inside.

Cub never told anyone that he killed the members of his own squadron. According to the other soldiers, they had died by the hands of the Jedi after Order 66, and the Jedi had escaped. Few knew her name, and those who did weren't aware of where she went: only Cub was knowledgeable about that. But he didn't know her name.

He couldn't explain how nobody found him accountable for his actions, only suggesting that those who were not preoccupied with the Jedi had been too busy pushing forwards on his command, taking the planet for Republic - _Empire - _owned space. At a later date he mused that it may have been something about the Jedi; she must have sensed that he wanted to keep this secret, and perhaps found that as some way to repay him.

The Jedi Master found his actions foolish, but _brave too. _She was unaware that he was still alive - he was unwilling to forsake his name as a solider and run from the battlefield, instead opting to see it out and return, later, for a briefing on what would happen now that they had won _The Clone Wars._ Little did he know that it was the end of the war either way for him - and soon he would wish he had run away, rather than having to decide a Hobson's choice:

To be watched by the newfangled _Empire _in retirement, or to train new soldiers to uphold _The Empire. _

What an end for a _brave, foolish, _ARC Trooper.


	3. Credits

**A . R . C **

**a . d . v . e . n . t . u . r . e . s**

_"**T**hey'll be people looking for you. We all did it, Order 66 - and some aren't happy. I'll be rooting them out while you'll be running from them." _

Out of everything that could have been said, this was possibly the one thing that really resonated with Cub. It was ironic, really, and he was aware of it - he was standing here as if he was a cold blooded killer, just the same as everyone else; but not _everyone _committed to Order 66, and he was living proof of that. It was unfortunate that he would be remembered as one of those raised to shoot down their allies at a single command from a single (and highly suspicious) person - and he had to get a plan. He would _not _run, and he would not allow those who were opposed to the Great Jedi Purge to be hunted down, and _that _was his duty. Of course he wouldn't have verbalised this thoughts, but he knew that his duty had always remained the same, and that it always would.

His face gave away little of his conflict, despite the nights that he had spent on the transfer from that last fatal battle to here, in this small cramped up room. He'd had nightmares, of course he had: full of righteousness, Cub knew that the Jedi that he had 'saved' probably would not have escaped the planet alive. She had no way of hiding from the searches, but he was _graced _with looking like everyone else .. there was no possible way to distinguish him as the outlier of the group. She, dressed in her open-backed woolen robe and without shoes was distinguishable to any as a Jedi, and sought out by others for her species. He knew, of course, that the Jedi were entirely capable of looking after themselves - but then again, many had fallen to the fire of his own brothers, despite apparently having an 'in depth connection to the Force'.

It was funny when he thought about it. He experienced more regret for not helping the Jedi than he did for killing his brethren, his _friends. _Cub would have cried at the thought, because he was exhausted by the whole string of events. He didn't even try to rationalise with himself or make up excuses, knowing that he would have to come to accept at some point that he was _tired _of brothers and of soldiers, honour, pride and valour. He'd known for a long time that army life was not suited to him, and yet denied it: he was a _clone, _bred for this purpose. Jango Fett wasn't _just _a warrior, though - he was Bounty Hunter. And Cub thought that he had a little too much of Jango within him, a little too much of his wants (Boba).

_"Right. You, out." _

Cub quickly swung around, wincing slightly in pain when he stretched his arms in front of him to loosen up the joints. Surprise overwhelmed him when the Commanding human pointed at - who was it? Able, for the first time to acknowledge his attacker, Cub found himself face to face with Mass: An ARC Sergeant known for his extreme aggressiveness. In complete juxtaposition with Cub's facial expressions, Mass sneered and let out a long string of curse words.

The Commander had obviously pressed a button on his comlink to establish connection with security, because two guards approached and seized Mass' arms, achieving a fast hold of him lest he try to get away.

_"With us, then. If you don't struggle and just comply it'll be easier for all of us." _The former said, beginning to walk Mass from the room, sparing a glance towards Cub after. The Lieutenant was well known by the guards from well before The Clone Wars ever started; he was one of the more aggressive units who had undergone severe programming and almost had a brush with the detention center, where they kept defiant Clones. They all knew that the programming had worked: he retained the same personality and recklessness, unlike most - but most where understanding that Cub would no longer initiate fights.

_"We'll put this one back into isolation until he calms down, Commander." _A guard said, while the others nodded in agreement and began to pull at Mass harder, hurrying him through the door of the room and further into the establishment.

_"Cub, you're free to go. The Empire will mourn it's loss in you, and in your fellow brothers," _The stern man said, obviously sensing that unrest would fall upon the other Clones if the subject of Order 66 was brought up in too much detail - it seemed that the Commander was aware, to a certain extent, of how heated discussions between Clones could become. The rest was a formality, although no doubt a sincere one; any loss of an ARC Trooper was a serious blow to the army, as they were limited and unique in training. No doubt he simply wanted to get through this as fast as possible: everyone had more _exciting _things to do than deal with the old Clones now that a new Empire was in creation. _"You can take or leave your armour as you wish, and leave when you please. Remember to represent The Empire well: the same message goes to all those thinking of retirement." _

Sighing, the ARC Trooper broke out into a someone bitter laugh, looking over the remaining troopers. They had gathered back into a formation, used to the routine and brutal discipline of life of the front lines. Each held a varying expression from the next; some looked hopeful, some looked defiant, and some refused to meet his eyes completely. Cub raised his hand, fingers meticulously straight, and held it to his forward in an awkward salute, before turning his back on the party.

He wasn't sure if he should march or walk, and so settled for a comfortable pace between the two. His walking was accelerated in comparison to normal, eager to exit the room and allow his emotions to get the better of him. Accepting his fate and coming to terms with the rapid change would take some time: he still didn't fully understand the implications of a _The Empire, _a new army, a new way of _life. _It was completely foreign and he had coped to the best of his ability - which was to not cope at all, to fight against the change as best that he could - but now was the time to start everything from the beginning.

The door shut with a resonating bang - or maybe it seemed loud in the comparative silence of empty corridors - and he looked down at his hands, which he found where shaking ever so slightly.

_"I'm free," _he muttered, half to himself and half to anyone who was around to hear. He jumped and span and bumped into a wall and filled himself with ecstasy to control the grief he felt. _"... In an Empire control by one." _And then he cried, and he cried, and he cried. He missed his brothers, even though they had never hugged him, and he missed the Jedi, even though they had never rubbed his back in comfort. He missed home, even though he had never had his own bedroom, or parents. He missed stories - he'd had someone to tell him amazing stories, but he didn't have that person anymore and he'd pledged to himself that one day he would tell stories but he didn't have anyone to tell them too.

Cub cried until he couldn't cry any more tears, and he didn't hide them. Several people asked him why he was 'roaming this streets' and if he was 'a deserter', which irritated him just enough to give them a thump on the back and a smile with a salute, before he realised that he _could have _and _would have _been a deserter if he wasn't foolish enough to want to stay with his brothers just a little while longer.

If he hadn't gone back on the Republic ship, he would have never _had to _make the decision of retirement. Cub was astute enough to notice that they had not removed the link in his arm which identified him as a Clone - and probably allowed for him to be tracked on their database, too. In some ways he was glad, but the finer thinking man was aware that this was a risky position to be in if they discovered that he had not followed _the _Order. If he had deserted the army then and then (and in the protection of a Jedi, no less), perhaps they would have never thought to keep regular checks on him, presuming him dead and his body simply missing. But - _deep breaths. _Even if he wasn't a solider, he could still have a calm persona, _yes. _

Closing his eyes for a short second or so, he took a moment to regain his composure. Everything had become so hard to except; war had always been hard, but the past few days had been _torture, _and not the kind committed by the hands of Separatists. Cub was aware that he would certainly have to take some time out of town to calm down; his nerves were tingling, body longing to feel some movement to find a way to cope.

The Empire hadn't enough money to supply living establishments, he was well aware of that. The 'standard of living' across the galaxy had dropped - slavery had soared and houses had become smaller and smaller, with little hope for change any time soon. This he had learned from his time participating in side missions, the brief gossip about Senators and the issues that had been brought to the forefront of political action - and yes, _he, _The Clones, were responsible for the economic downfall. Cracking his neck to release bodily tension, the dark haired ex-Lieutenant concluded that he would sleep rough for the night, rather than spend the bag of Republic credits offered to him.

And there - speak of the Separatists! A large holoboard levitating over the string of people switched channels, broadcasting local news. Cub looked upwards, stumbled a couple of times from busy citizens in a rush bumping into him, and eventually regained his footing in a safe spot.

_"The Jedi have become a risk to us all. Having committed unspeakable crimes against the welfare of you all, it was a universal decision to remove them from power positions." _The newsreader gathered her papers, and looked forward with an intent stare, as if to portray the importance to her words.

_"Should you see any of the following Jedi - they are betrayed by their extremely dangerous weapons, lightsabers - please notify local police immediately. Do not engage them; they are lethal and will react when provoked." _

The Clone Trooper must have blinked once before the broadcast was gone. Many people around had been watching it, and frightened voices around the streets had risen in volume. People where dissatisfied; everyone knew that the Jedi kept them safe, and many had lived in awe of the legends. To have them roaming around set to kill seemed to an ordinary citizen as unlikely as suddenly winning a chrome plated ship.

_"Fierfek. Fiefek, fiefek, fiefek." _That answered none of his questions in relation the past few days, and only succeeded in inflicting fear and anxiety! Many families had been saved by various Jedi, either by chance or by a mission - and yet he could hear people discussing how it would have only been a matter of time before this happened. Cub felt like fiercely declaring that he could vouch for the Jedi, but was shocked to discover that the offenders were as young as children.

Now they were showing a rather short list of all known Jedi to the order, with names written and rewards written in Basic under the pictures. Cub had worked with few of the Jedi, heard stories of others, and yet was sure that none of them would have acted against the Republic without some sort of ... what was it they called it?_ Dark side influence_. The idea the of a spontaneous turn around from 'peace-keepers' to 'havoc makers' was preposterous- and _he recognised that face. _That was _her ; _and a hefty bounty for alerting police of her whereabouts.

For a moment, Cub was ashamed to say that he had considered it. Although the sum of money he had been allowed by The Empire was substantial, he would need a good lot more to be able to do anything of any affect with his life, including buying anywhere decent to live - and that was without trying to get them off his tail. All it would take was a short conversation, a couple of lies, and he'd be away with a happy life and some credits to spare - but where was the valour in that? Hitting his head in exasperation with himself, Cub turned away and set off once again along the streets, her name still remaining firmly implanted within his mind.

_"I'm going to catch a Jedi one day! Just you see!" _A young humanoid yelled, poking another youngster in the back with a long stick. _"You're dead, Jedi!" _

And in that moment Cub remembered his parting words with Mass. At the time, they had worried him; he was afraid that he would be hailed a traitor. But disgustingly, it seemed that most people where _happy _about this 'Order 66'. Perhaps he wouldn't have to run after all - but then again, perhaps he would be doing the catching for himself.

_700,000 credits._..


	4. Visions

**J . E. D . I **

**j . e . o . p . a . r . d . y**

**S**he could feel the vibrations throughout the ground; Torgurta generally did not wear shoes as a tradition, mostly to enhance their connection to the environment around them, and the feeling was pulsing up through her body. As a Jedi, Ellanor felt that she should maintain contact and respect to her roots - but with time, she also found it enhanced her connection the living force, giving her energy. Right now, with heightened senses, she could feel the familiar vibrations from the engine of a Republic ship leaving the planet, unmistakable from any distance. She'd spent too long in the cockpit, the war causing forced intimacy with the spacecraft.

Honestly, when she had escaped the battle; managed to coax a local beast near enough to hitch a ride, watched the moons move fast across a dark sky, turned back only once - no, _twice -_ and settled down in a damp nearby cave, Ellanor had been shocked by the _silence. _Her mind had become clear in the solitude spent alone, and an assassination attempt on her life seemed a simple way to conclude events - but she would have expected to feel a conflict in the Force. Instead, there was a surprising lack of influence swinging from one side or the other, which, through process of elimination, must mean that the clones did not concede to betrayal through malicious intent.

Twin light-sabers both tucked into her belt, the Jedi Master sat with a straight back, eyes relaxed and head moving slightly with how she felt the 'flow' of the force, almost _dancing. _She seemed vulnerable, her back bare and a row of bleached white patterns fading down her back, empathized by the spinal bones falling in the same position. Reaching out through the Force, Ellanor left her body like curled like a shell, extending and expanding herself far beyond the limitations of physical _being. _

If the hint that no enmity had accompanied the Clone's behavior had been strange enough, the feeling within her now was ... _worse? _Alive and witness to only the Jedi order in the moments of absolute peace and serenity, it seemed as if the fabric of _togetherness _was being ripped apart. The Jedi could feel so _many _entities separated from themselves, as if they had reached out in disparity and been severed completely from all that they had ever known. An organized crime on the outside had made for a clambering of grasping trails.

The experience could be described in no other way than inordinate; Ellanor's eyelids where twitching, fingernails causing slight white indents in her arms from exerting pressure subconsciously. When finally able to withdraw from the experience, her slight intake of breathe was colossal in the still cave were only water dropped from the rocks above. Her eyes snapped open, body lurching forwards slightly and then throwing itself back as she took heaving, heavy breaths.

This had never happened before. _Ever. _She was a fully experienced Jedi Master, having shown capability and initiative despite struggling to agree with some of her seniors over the full nature of the force - and yet _this _had never happened, not something so extreme. What seemed like a petty assassination that she could report to Coruscant had now become something much more worrying.

For possibly the second time in her life, Ellanor was unable to mask her loneliness. The world did not seem so claustrophobic and bursting with life as it had weeks ago - so many connecting threads had been cut. As her stomach raised and dropped dramatically with the intake of air, her mind suddenly drifted to the Lieutenant in the blue striped armour who had done the unthinkable to extend her life, and end his kinsman's; he had been _brave. _She did not _agree_ with what he had done, and many would argue that it was against the nature of the force - and yet his actions where the definition of pure selfishness, where they not? And besides, in the brief moments that they spent together, she had felt the warmth spreading from him to her. Many other feelings where departing him - but only warmth had been shared with her, and she was pleased for that. And _lonely. _

Sighing, Ellanor felt a pang of regret. It was not in her nature to depart with anyone without thanking them first for their kindness, and the unnamed Clone had been worth far more than a simple 'thank you'. In different circumstances - but then again, in different circumstances he would have been sent for imprisonment, and she would have surely reported him before similar causalities could have been committed. Was it right to be so forgiving when it was _her _life that was on the cards, and yet so brutal when her life had not been in danger? And was this truly _regret _that she was feeling - or just an extension of loneliness, an excuse to experience the feeling of another person with which share shared a lived experience.

_Emotions - _so this what she supposed Grand Master Yoda had been talking off when he had trained them to release those emotions. A tear slid down her cheek as the reality of the situation hit at once, the feeling of all those stranded dead rushing back in a flood. _No Jedi. Emotions. Regret, loneliness, confusion, _

_ anger ... ? _

As she allowed the tear to run it's course down her face, the brown eyed Jedi followed it with exploring fingers, tracing the contours of her face and eventually meeting with the wetness of the tear. It was all strange to her, unknown and somewhat unnatural. In a brief moment she wonder if Clone's ever cried, or if it had been removed from their DNA as a deficiency, a weakness - but she caught herself in time, rubbing her palms together and shaking the thought from her head. Instead she concentrated on her surroundings, extending her hands forward and _slowly, _slowly lifting each water droplet from the half-dead grass which grew from the ground. It looked like a cascade of tears, and Ellanor may have been tempted to keep it suspended above her - but for now she let it drop in one gathered puddle, assuring that the ground on which she would rest her head was soft and dry.

In final preparation before a brief moment of rest, her wool robe was pushed from her shoulders slightly, giving more breathing room to the wearer. Having lived a simple life at the Jedi Temple, she was more than happy to stretch her legs and listen for the nocturnal sounds outside, thankful that the natural environment was as inviting and comfortable as a bed. All that was to be done today was wish for a pleasant sleep - for her thoughts to manifest themselves into nightmares would be detrimental to the regeneration time that was needed.

When awakened in what she assumed was morning, her mind was clearer; the Torgurta was determined and vengeful - a fact that was shown when she reached for the hilt of her lightsaber as a precautionary action. The planet was still surprisingly devoid the dark side, but she still intended to set out and uncover some of the mysteries that had presented themselves to the galaxy, and lacking transport, here was the best place to start.

Slipping her Jedi robe back over her shoulders and into place, thoughts of food and drink crossed her mind for the first time since the fateful battle. She could withhold her urges for longer than most people, but it would become a problem if fresh water wasn't found soon - and that meant starting out on the journey now. Surprisingly, the beast on which she had arrived was laying outside the cave, basking in the fresh sunlight. When it sensed her presence it reared it's head, shaking about before clambering to it's own legs, perhaps sensing the urgency within her steps.

_"Morning, girl," _Ellanor murmured, stroking it's head lightly with her hand. _"Coming with me on this adventure, then?" _

The beast stomped it's large hooves and rubbed it's head against her shoulders slightly, while the tall Master hitched up her robe to sit comfortably on it's back, giving it a light tap on the back. She trusted the animal to go where it wanted: she wouldn't attempt to lead it, interesting deciding to trust it's own instincts on the matter. Perhaps it would even lead her to a stream of fresh water, or possibly, even better, somewhere that had access to the latest news channels. They rode for a considerable amount of time, going at an amiable pace, so as to not tire easily. Wildlife was scare and so far there was no noticeable population that could be found - although a few other beasts akin to the one she was riding would occasionally show up grassing on the horoizan.

They had been riding for several more hours before Ellanor found anything noteworthy. Well - _found _was a generous statement. It was more like _stumbled upon. _

_"Fierfek! What where you're going! As if you can't see I've got a damned wound-" _

And then there was silence.

And then a shot. Really, she should have recognised the slur, considering all the times that she'd heard it grumbled below breath. She'd never known what it meant, but she'd been able to tell it apart from another curse word wherever she went. But it didn't quite click in time, and strangely enough she hoped that it was going to be _her _Clone - they all sounded the same, after all, and she'd never had a chance to have a proper conversation with him - but she didn't notice the differing uniform, or the speech patterns, the slur - and by the time she had, it was too late, because she was shot.

Her steed reared, frightened by the loud sound of the blaster. This, combined with the shot to her shoulder, caused her to fall from it's back, causing a gut-wrenching pain. Biting her lip hard, she rolled over so to access her lightsaber, bringing it to defend her instantly. It wasn't long before the Clone's injury was evident too, because he couldn't hold his blaster well, and she managed to reflect each shot that he fired. Soon, he would be out of ammo; couldn't he see that this was a useless fight?

_"Jedi. Why are you here?" _Ah, there it was - the conversation of defeat. Smiling slightly, she stretched out her hand, pulling the weapon from his and slicing it with her lightsaber. With a possibly hostile Clone now rendered defenseless, she was more than happy to talk.

_"I was fighting to gain back our control of the planet. I presume you were in the same battle." _

_"Y-Yes ... Stupid clankers shot me through the leg, and then friendly fire hit my arm - still didn't bother to finish me off properly" _The Clone half scoffed, half reprimanded. _"I'm Frowl, standard Trooper." _

_"Can you tell me where there is fresh water?" _Starting off meek, she wondered if she would have to push him to achieve even a simple gain.

The Clone decided to be co-operative - for now; he new of Jedi mind tricks, and as calm as the woman seemed to be, he was sure that she couldn't be ignorant to the conspiracy that he had been enacted. "For_ a price, Jedi." _


	5. Stop

** A . R . C**

** a . d . v . e . n . t . u . r . e . s**

Lieutenant Cub chuckled in an ironic manner at the idea of him - a clone, no less - exploring the world. He had seen the Universe only through a helmet that pointed out targets; nothing thorough in terms of history, or beautiful wildlife and lifeforms. He was a destroyer; a coloniser; and not a life form ... or at least not one with experience like any of the others. What he did know was that if he went around with the same attitude as he did while he was fighting for the Republic, he would get nowhere - and be instantly recognised as a retrograde 'up to no good'. He had to think this through properly; none of the compulsive on the spot thinking that he was so used to.

It would take time to sort out his thoughts, and honestly he had no idea where to start. Should he treat it like he was arranging tactics for the battlefield? But he was beyond that, wasn't he? He was beyond that now.

So the tall man-made a mental list of his objectives, a methodical plan of action that was close enough to his normal thinking to be comfortable, but not close enough to feel like this was a plan to conquer; this was his life. Silently mouthing the numbers as he went through them, it was overwhelming - but he'd got his priorities listed now: the first was to find a suitable place to spend the night. He didn't want to be rushing into things instantly; it would be best to keep a low profile and stick to what he was good at - which was being a clone, rather than an independent, free, man. It was his life, but he wasn't ready for it yet.

In Corusant the weather was already taking a turn for the worse, grey skies barely obscured by the many towering buildings above him. Everything had seemed normal at a first glance - bad weather wasn't abnormal, and luckily he was dressed for all-weather. People were as curious - and yet nonchalant - as ever, and the city as bustling as one would expect. In every household the Jedi were the topic of the rotation, but it didn't show. Many were still happy to go about their lives, not quite understanding the grand scale of which this made a difference. One less (burning) building on the Corusant horizon meant little to some. They all remembered the time that the huge beast had terrorized the city - word was that it had even tried to attack the Chancellor! The citizens were used to danger and likewise, so was Lieutenant Cub: for the citizens, the Jedi had been the peacekeepers. They knew little of rebellion, dictation and true fear. The solder knew the feelings of all of these back to front.

He supposed that the new Challencor (Palpatine was far too close to the Jedi, he suspected) had sorted things out by now, gotten things in 'order' - although that meant little to the uninformed ARC Trooper, who had distanced himself from politics once the awakening that politics were the reason that he was fighting, arose. But he was still afraid.

An increasingly consistent patter of rain hitting the pavements made Cub shiver and temporarily forget his thoughts; his armour was capable of dealing with the worse of weather, but it simply seemed like a bad omen in his circumstances. Ducking into a nearby alleyway, and in turn the shelter of a door, the Lieutenant was only one of many to be hurrying across the streets in a newfound urgency. Only the castaways remained; the ones in too dire of a situation to let the consequences of the cold and rain hinder their dark ways, their selling ... or their begging. Occasionally he heard small voices call out, offering their wares to passersby; rainparras, tickets to the latest holloshows and even 'pets' from the strangest of planets around the galaxy.

"Come along and watch the latest holoshow - Twi'lek in their finest element! Discounted prices for today only. Come along, come along, pay in credits at the door! Follow me, follow me."

Wrapping the cloak attached to his armour around his body, the tanned man watched rain puddle around his feet. It reminded him of home, the wet and the wind. The tall platforms above the raging sea where nothing in comparison to the sweeping architecture here, even in the pristine glory of the cleansliness and meticulous sterilisation - but the atmosphere of Kamino had always been one of wild calmness. He had never known what to think of this place, with all of it's ins and outs, all of it's confusion. Even so, it would taken his less than a second to choose which he preferred. Cub closed his eyes as if to forget, and seemingly reluctantly drew the hood of his cloak over his dripping hair. He hoped the rain would stop soon; the streets were always quieter and the chances of being interrogated or a sudden attack from an militant anti-Clone-Wars protester were imminent. Best to get to a clone-friendly inn as soon as possible - and then for a change of clothes, hitching a ride, and well - off to find an old comrade who owed him a debt.

Shaking the remaining rain from his head in an animatistic manner, Cub kept his head firmly down, occasionally raising a hand to gesture the odd hegler away. The same hand strayed to his guns several times in the case of a persistent seller - he was paranoid, and he just couldn't risk making a commotion.

"'Scuse me." Muttering, he brushed by the side of a shorter man who spat at his heels in distaste. Cub had spotted a shop offering wear from all around the galaxy, and it looked non conspicuous enough.

Bang. Bang. The glass felt weak and feeble under the repeated pressure that his fist was putting it under. For some reason, the damn door wouldn't open - he'd tried the handle, peered through the glass, and still nothing. It was unusual for a shop to be closed at any time in Corusant - and this one didn't have the trademark holo above it's door stating that they were away for business. Stepping back, he checked anyway, peering up.

"Keep your voice down. Nobody has called since this morning. Haven't you heard the news? Please, be on your way!"

Fierfek! That had made him jump, stumbling back from the door in a moment of complete and utter shock. Both hands at his wrist, firmly planted on the triggers of his blasters, Cub glanced around at the passersby. There was no-one close, unless they'd snuck away, or had powers of invisibility (he'd heard some Jedi possessed that trick ... look, it wasn't that silly of an idea!), and well, there was still no-one at the door. And then he felt stupid. And he wondered if his tank on Kamino had sprung a leak - this new life wasn't flattering him. There was a holo right to the side of the door, floating in mid-air. The image of a Human Woman stared at him in disbelief, placing a finger to her lips the moment that he had acknowledged her presence.

"State your business ... Clone Trooper. Or I'm not letting you in." The holo continued as Cub regained his balance and moved his body so it covered the holotransmission from curious passer-bys.

"I've come to shop. If you don't want people knocking on your door, perhaps you should put the closed sign up."

Well - at least he still hadn't lost his wit and ability to make backhanded comments. It felt good to talk to someone 'normally' again, even if he was in a bit of a fix.

"Look - everybody knows that's just a pure invitation for the people in the lower levels to come stealing your wears. Nobody does it anymore, it's far easier to just hire someone trustworthy, not that there's many decents around anymore. Renegade Clones like you would have done the job well - but that's not the point! I can't let you in. Who can I trust anymore? Not the Jedi, not the senators, not ... you."

And with that, the holotransmion disappeared. Cub clicked his teeth in annoyance - the mysterious woman hadn't even given him a chance to explain himself. Or herself, actually. He didn't know how far he would have to travel around the planet to find another shop quite like this one; most of the clothing consisted of strange, over the top, almost threater-ish get ups. The people here didn't do things by half. He was more of a plain type of person - granted, he'd never been out the clothes prescribed to him, but this was an instinct, this was how he felt comfortable.

It was tempting to swear again, actually. It was even more tempting to shoot his blaster at the door and get through, totally ignoring the womans pleas; but a small amount of common sense remained to him, and he knew aggressive thinking was neither the best offense of defense in this 'world'.

Cub bit his lip and turned around, using the door for support in bringing his body to face in the opposite direction. For the third time that day, a look of immense shock crossed over his face; the door gave away easily, and he was forced to swing back around to catch himself on the framework. "What made you - change your mind?" He muttered, taking a last look at the sodden streets before crossing over the threshold into warmth.

This time the Lieutenant's voice was auidible, meant to be heard by others. "Hello - um, Madame, why'd you let me in?"

The dark skies of Corusant suddenly seemed far away in the warm of the shop. It was vast in size, broad beams easily spanning the large interior to keep the fist story up Presumably her living quaters where upstairs; it was unusual for anyone to have a whole building to themselves, even if they did own a shop. Cub was used to the humble abode of the Jedi and his own

Ietma - for that was the mysterious woman's name - peeked around the corner of a shelf, a small crease evident between her eyebrows.

"Please, don't call me Madame. My name is Ietma," she paused, taking a full step towards the man. "I can get you clothes - if you can offer me information in return - and promise to not mention this to anyone else. Please."

Coughing, he suddenly felt rather awkward; he hadn't meant to get himself into any sort of tricky situations, and now, suddenly, by complete conincidence, he was in the presence of someone very suspicious. They must have had a reason to talk to him in particular - it was obvious they wouldn't have let anyone in. 'Ietma' was even considering not letting him in either, after all.

"I'm ... Letta's sister." She continued, her voice cracking slightly.

Where did that ring a bell? He'd heard some of the comanding Jedi talk of her, which was unusual. They often never discussed specific citizens, he was sure of that. Most of their buisness, like his, was conducted in far off planets, or kept within the walls of their temple, deep in that state that they called 'meditation'. " Letta ... Turmond? She tried to ... overthrow the Jedi. She was part of a plot with tha- that one which betrayed her."

Slowly, his reactions delayed somewhat, Cub reached for his blaster, activating the trigger.

"... Stop."

**e . n . d **


End file.
